Mercurial by Naomi Hughes (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📕

risk upon herself, instead of asking Nyx to play the assassin and Albinus to make the law and mete out any of its potential punishments.

Nyx tried to shake off her growing unease. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “One way or another, I’m killing the Destroyer. We can argue about the aftermath later.”

Saasha looked as if Nyx had struck her. Then, slowly, she reached across the table and put both her hands on Nyx’s. “That’s the thing, my daughter,” she said, her voice shaking just a little. “That is what I was trying to tell you. If you do this, there will be no later. Not for you.”

“What?”

“If a known Saint assassin is caught killing the new empress, Albinus will not be able to make any treaties with us at all. The high courts will blame the Saints as an organization for her death. They’ll demand reparations that we cannot give at the very least, and wipe us out completely at the worst.”

Nyx tried to follow her mother’s logic. “But if that’s true, then I can’t be the one to kill her, because I’m a known Saint.”

Saasha shook her head. “You are not. The Destroyer has been so caught up with her sister’s death and the preparations for Tal’s trial that she’s not released any details at all about her capturers. No one knows who you are. The only thing they will know is that you are Tal’s sister…and willing to give up your life to save him.”

The logic of it all slid into Nyx like a well-oiled blade. She held herself very still. Of course. Of course, this was how it would have to be.

Saasha kept talking. Her voice took on a pleading note, though Nyx wasn’t sure if she was asking Nyx to go through with the assassination, or to not think badly of Saasha for engineering it. “It can’t be allowed to get out that the Saints have anything to do with the Destroyer’s death. It’s the only way for the empire to move forward.”

Nyx licked her dry lips. “What about you?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “Will you move forward?”

Saasha cringed. “It will be quick. That much I have made Albinus swear. There is no way the royal guards will let any assassin escape but he can ensure that you don’t suffer.”

“Mother.”

Tears gathered in Saasha’s eyes. She squeezed Nyx’s hands. “I will be so proud,” she said, her voice breaking a bit. “So very proud of you and what you have achieved for us all. I will think of you every day. You will be our most honored martyr.”

“That is not a good balm for being dead.”

“But how else will Tal survive?” Saasha asked, and there it was: the crux of the matter. “As long as the Destroyer lives, she will honor her sister’s laws. All silver Smiths must be executed. But if you were to kill her before she can render judgment, Albinus will take the throne, and he will forge a new path for the empire. Tal will be pardoned. And Albinus has sworn that he can save him from the rust phage, too.”

Nyx squeezed her eyes shut. Tal would be saved…and she would be dead. He would despise her for it. It would break his heart, and it would certainly break Helenia’s.

Nyx had imagined that, when all of this was over and both she and Tal were free, she would ask Helenia to marry her. She had dreamed of a winter garden blooming with whimsical snow vines and hardy white roses, all thorns and beauty. Perfect for the match between Nyx and Helenia. Tal would have been there too, dressed in his finery with no swords in sight, smiling for once as he escorted Nyx to her beloved. But there was no way now that such a vision would ever come true. It was only for her to decide which way she would wreck it, and who would be missing from the scene. Herself…or her little brother.

She tried to think it through logically. Tal was free of his oath, and she was not, or at least not entirely. She had yet to see the empire fall and the Destroyer’s rule ended. Even now, the vow itched beneath her skin. If she chose to do nothing and leave Tal’s fate to the girl who had already ruined his life, Nyx would still end up back here one day with an assassin’s weapon in her hand—but Tal would no longer be there to be rescued.

She knew that there was every chance Albinus was lying, that he was using the Saints to gain the throne for himself. But what if he did follow through on his promises, or at least his promise to free and heal Tal?

Nyx was going to have to end the Destroyer’s reign one way or another. Wasn’t it better to do it when there was still a chance of saving Tal in the bargain?

She reached across the table and picked up the miniature crossbow and the vial of poison. Her hand looked like it belonged to someone else; it shook, when her hands never shook. But it was her making this choice. Her deciding her own destiny. Her deciding what—and who—was worth dying for.

“Very well, Mother,” she heard herself say. “I will do it.”

ONCE, THERE WAS A BOY WHO BELIEVED.

His belief was no longer an easy thing. It used to feel infallible; it used to feel as certain as the sun. And then, when it dimmed and vanished, he’d thought his faith had been more like a desert—something created with the sole purpose of evaporating and demolishing any trace of life. It was only lately that he’d come to realize it was nothing so vast or grand as either the sun or a desert. It was more like a weed: small, and vain, and much harder to extract than he’d anticipated.

He was glad of it. At least weeds were honest. And valiant, in a way: to be