Burning Glass (38 page)

I had no gift for reading Emperor Izia’s thoughts, but I filled in the spaces between what his agonizing emotions could tell me and what I knew of Valko’s experience. From everything I’d learned about Izia and the upbringing of his children, it wasn’t difficult to place the logic behind his suffering.

My skin grew clammy with trepidation. I needed to scratch it, needed to do worse. With a whimper, I watched my palm tremor and bend around the dagger blade. The sharp edges suddenly felt like a pathway of release. My body shook with that longing. Dizziness assaulted me. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The downward spiral of Izia’s desolation threatened to suck me into a mad corner of my mind. How could anyone live in this much pain?

I struggled to open my palm and slightly break the unendurable connection. “Did your father take his own life?” I asked.

Valko’s aura seemed to fall. It plunged through the floor of my stomach and sunk its weight into my legs. “Very observant. A child could
not
have divined that.”

Behind him, smoke and the wash of orange torchlight blotted out the stars. The screams of the people turned into a chorus of dissonant wails. Their hope siphoned away until their despair combined with all the horror and anguish I felt. Tears burned my eyes.

“The loss of your father was your greatest tragedy,” I said, stunned by the revelation, my knees wobbling, the blade like ice in my hand. “You desire to rule like him in majesty, yet never suffer the weakness he succumbed to in mortality. In the end,
he cowered from his noble birthright. He died without honor.”

Valko’s mood abruptly shifted. Revulsion replaced his sadness. He yanked the dagger back so it cut a red gash across my palm. I cried out. My fingers curled together as blood dripped between them.

“You are wrong!” he said, pointing the dagger heavenward. “My father honored his sanction from the gods!” As the blade arced down toward me, I threw my hands over my head. The dagger point slashed through the sleeve of my dress and bit into my skin.

“Stop!” I hissed in pain, and stumbled backward.

The emperor stepped close. A menacing calm descended upon him. “My father understood that in order for Riaznin to be great, its ruler must be mighty and unblemished, so he struck down the abhorrent lump of clay his body had become because he knew he lived on through
me
—that I would be mighty in his stead, and the blood of our chosen dynasty would continue to flow through my veins.”

Valko raised the dagger to my throat. My heart beat violently. I scarcely dared breathe, for even the pulsing at my neck scraped against the blade. “Your father entrusted the future of Riaznin to your strength,” I whispered, proving I’d heard him as I grappled to move past my fear. My life depended on giving myself over to Valko’s feelings. I had to employ my full energy in finding perfect compassion for him. I needed to identify with the crushing pressure he had lived with under the ever-present shadow of his dead father.

Valko’s eyes were pewter gray—hard with determination, yet shining with remorse. “Then you understand why I must strike you down. You are a thorn in my side, Sonya, a plague worse than Black Death. You make me weak, and I cannot abide weakness.”

Past his harsh and finite words, I felt his affection still burn within my breast. Although he cared for me, he had no choice but to end my life. I had gotten myself too involved and now people were dying—like they did whenever I released the darkest parts of myself.

“I understand you,” I said. Because at last I did. My aura smoothed into a looking glass.

I saw him in me. Myself in him.

My death was the only way to bring about peace. If I lived, I would only cause more destruction. My life held back the good of the empire. The world was in shambles, and it needed a resplendent leader—with no weak link to hinder his reign.

Valko sighed and shook his head sadly. “It’s a shame you couldn’t make me strong.” The tip of the dagger traced a swirl against my collarbone. He leaned in closer. His teeth dragged along my ear. “I shall miss the taste of you.”

I understand.

A mournful cry echoed distantly. My brow twitched.

Valko placed the dagger above my heart.

I understand.

Three muskets fired in succession. Pain blossomed across my belly. Had the emperor killed me already?

“Close your eyes, Sonya. I can’t bear to have you look at me that way.”

I understand.

The blade bit deeper. A trickle of warmth slid between my breasts. Why was I still breathing?

The scent of gunpowder lingered in my nostrils. More faraway cries. Where were they coming from? I could no longer remember what was happening.

The blade at my chest wavered. “Good-bye, love.” Valko squeezed my arm where he’d cut me. I sucked in a breath from the pain.

On the brink of my death, something deep, almost buried, but still pulsing within me compelled me to open my eyes. The flickering energy gained strength. It built in illumination and steeled me with courage. At last my mind cleared and I recognized the feeling—Anton’s aura living inside me, his rekindled light shattering Valko’s dark grasp.

As I lifted my gaze to the emperor, I saw no more of my reflection in him, felt no more compassion. “Put the dagger down.”

Valko’s face contorted with a faint semblance of pity. “It’s too late, Sonya.”

“No. It isn’t.” There were people yet alive. I cast my reach out wide for them. Felt each beating heart. Each rise and fall of breath. Each unique energy. I wasn’t mistaken about empathy being the key to their salvation, but I’d wasted it on the wrong man. My empathy wasn’t meant for one person. It was meant to
be given liberally. To all. Regardless of class. Wealth. Position. I would become one with Riaznin and let the emperor, at last, meet the reckoning of his people.

“You will not kill me because I am your empire.” I pointed beyond the marble ledge of his balcony. “Your people’s cries are my cries. Their anger is my wrath. Their suffering, my plea for retribution.” As soon as I spoke the words, a gate opened inside me. How easy it was to let them in, to let them overcome me. The quiet space within myself I’d labored so long to protect, I tore down of my own volition.

“Their auras fill me. They stretch me beyond capacity.” I gasped, shaking. “I feel myself bridge the earth and sink beneath the ground, slipping between the cold bones of the dead. Their auras join us.” I opened my hands and welcomed the connection, though it shot ice through my veins. “They cry against you. Against centuries of oppression.”

Horror filled Valko’s eyes, but he didn’t release the dagger from my chest.

“This is your day of judgment. A million voices use my mouth. They will not rest. You do not have enough gunpowder, enough armies, enough endurance to withstand them. They will keep coming. They will crawl over the corpses of their wives and their husbands, their children and their friends, their brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, and they will hunt you down.”

“Stop!” Valko dropped the dagger. It clanged against the tiles. “Do not say another word!” He clapped his hands over his ears.

The haze of the peasants’ torchlight cast my dress and skin in a scorching glow. “You do not have glory,” I said. “You are tiny. Your blood is mortal, common. Glory is godly, undefiled. And glory joins me with the holy aura of the gods.” Tears streamed down my face from the transcendent energy surging through my limbs. “You oppress your brethren in your quest for all power. That is weak. It will always be weak. No man can be all-powerful.”

Valko fell to his knees. He wrung his ears and muttered vain prayers.

I stood tall over him. “The gods wish to feed your soul to the fires of hell. You will burn in eternity for the wrongs of every emperor before you because you did nothing to stop the cycle of cruelty and tyranny against your people.”

He shook his head as if to ward me away. His incessant prayers grew louder.

“Show them you are only a man,” I commanded, and summoned his aura back inside me. It was a pitiful spark next to the powerful inferno within. I pushed my overflowing energy into him so the suffering of his people could no longer be ignored.

As their auras struck him, Valko gasped and buckled at the waist. He writhed in agony and stared up at me with astounded eyes. “Forgive me, forgive me.” He clutched at his hair.

“You do not know the meaning of mercy, and you do not have the stomach to do what it takes to redeem yourself.”

“I will do anything!”

I looked down at him, so intolerable and wretched. “I want to hear you beg.”

“I am begging!” He clung to the skirt of my dress and kissed the silk as he buried his head in its folds. “I implore you”—he rocked on his knees—“tell me what I must do!”

I deliberated a moment longer. “Rise to your feet.”

He sniffled, chin quivering as he straightened up.

“Come with me.” I led him past the doorway of his balcony, to the ledge outside where every man, woman, and child could see him. Heaps of dead peasants lay in the distance, and more than half of the Imperial Guard had fallen. Still, the lingering soldiers relentlessly fired, the peasants marched forward with their only remaining weapons. Rocks, slings, sharp sticks—anything they could hurtle between the gold bars of the gate.

“Remove your crown,” I ordered Valko. “Tell the people your reign is over. Riaznin is theirs to rule.”

His nose wrinkled in the smoke. His mouth twisted with a grimace. “Never.”

“You will, or the spirits of the dead will guide those who live to slit your throat. And when you die, the gods will torture your soul until every memory, every lie of your noble blood burns to ashes.”

With a whimper, Valko collapsed to the ground. He hid behind the balcony wall from the people. “I will die, regardless. If I abdicate, they will never allow me to live.”

“Then make a trade: your throne for the promise of a trial—the fair judgment you denied so many.”
Pia. Tosya. Anton.

Valko hesitated with indecision. He wrenched into a tight ball of pain, his face blotchy as if he couldn’t draw breath. Tendons corded at his neck. Tears streaked to his jawline. Now he knew what it was to have my gift.

“Do it now, or I will kill you myself!” I said. My weapon was no saber or pistol; it was the aura of legions. And for Valko, it was threat enough.

He shuddered against a fresh swell of tears and crawled back to his feet, using the balcony wall to drag himself up. He opened his quivering mouth. His confidence was broken, his voice as thin as parchment. “People of Riaznin,” he rasped weakly. The battle didn’t cease. No one turned upward. No one noticed him.

I moved closer to his ear. “That is no way to address your countrymen. Do you feel their rage and suffering? They will not listen to the drivel of a weakling. Give them respect and relinquish with grace.”

Valko bent his neck and stared down at his hands as they fisted then uncurled. Swiping under his eyes, he inhaled a steadying breath and lengthened his neck. “People of Riaznin!” he cried. His voice grew in power like an orator’s at a great assembly. “Cease your fire! Lay down your weapons! I have heard you!” He withdrew his saber and raised it above his head to gain their attention. Once they quieted, he placed it on the balcony wall in a gesture of truce.

The guards’ firearms slowly lowered, but the peasants showed more wariness. They kept their rocks and slings held
high. “Release Tosya!” someone shouted.

Valko stole a glance at me, as if hoping that would be all that was required of him. I shook my head. He briefly closed his eyes and swallowed. “I will do more than that!” he continued. “I will abdicate and give you the freedom you desire!”

His claim was met by silence. Somewhere in the distance a baby wailed.

I stepped to the ledge of the balcony. “He has agreed to these terms on the condition you lay down your arms and proceed peaceably.” Thinking of Anton and his fervent hope for true justice, I added, “And you must give the emperor fair trial for the crimes of which he is accused.”

Valko lifted his chin, but inside he was a mess of uncertainty. “I believe you will find I ruled impartially and to the utmost of my ability!” he told them.

Someone snorted with laughter. Another shouted, “We will judge you, and you will lose your head!”

With shaking hands, the emperor reached up to hold his crown. His brows drew tight, and his jaw muscle flexed.

The populace of Torchev hushed in utter silence. The only sound was the hiss and crackle of their torch fire.

Valko’s nostrils flared as he slowly removed his crown from his head and set it beside his saber on the balcony wall. The power was gone in his voice when he replied, “I will take my chances.”

The people, the guards—everyone within reach of his declaration—exchanged astonished glances. Then a beautiful cry
of victory split the night. The peasants thrust their fists in the air, embracing and dancing, while others crumpled and wept against their dead—the people who had sacrificed so much to win liberty for all of Riaznin. Boys ran back to the deeper reaches of the streets and announced to those who hadn’t heard the news, “The mighty isn’t one, but many! The monarchy is no more!”

Their auras sang a song of triumph inside me. But I wasn’t finished. “Come with me,” I said again to Valko, and led him inside his rooms, past his giant bed, the velvet cushions around his receiving table, and the marble pillars to his lobby, until we arrived at his great door. I opened it. Twenty pairs of baffled eyes greeted us. Surely they had heard Valko’s decree of abdication.

I turned to the former emperor. “Tell the guards these rooms are your prison. Unless they wish to meet their deaths by the hands of the people—their new masters—they are not to release you under any circumstances.”

Valko’s gaze was on the floor. “As she says,” he mumbled.

He and I retreated back inside his chambers, where I fetched the bone-hilted dagger from the tiles. Valko would not escape this life like his father did. I opened the dresser drawer and retrieved the brass key. Clutching it in my uninjured hand, I walked away and left Valko to his misery.