Nirati opened her arms-letting an alarmed Takwee dangle from her right wrist. “I am in Kunjiqui. Grandfather made it for me. He created it and he… he brought me here when I died.” Is that right? Did I die?

“You cannot be dead, Nirati. The dead do not dream.”

Oh, but I think they do. I think they dream of being alive again. She brought her arms in over her chest and shivered. “You’re right, Keles; I am certain of it. But dreams are never certain, are they?”

“No. What of Grandfather and Jorim and Mother?”

“I’ve no news of Jorim, but no worries for him. Were I to dream him in Felarati, he would dream himself away again. With Mother I have no contact. Grandfather is well and happily at work. Are you not in contact with him?”

“The situation here is complicated enough that I don’t need him interrogating me. I can’t risk being distracted by his ire. When I am done, he’ll have a complete map of the new Felarati. Maybe that will please him, though my failure to complete the Ixyll survey will not.”

“He loves you. He loves us all.” She reached out to caress his face, but her fingers just moved through the image. Still, his face turned to her hand, and he would have kissed her palm had his lips not passed through it.

“Nirati.” Nelesquin’s voice boomed from high atop a distant hill. “Quickly, darling!”

With the echoes of his voice, the image of her brother evaporated. Takwee mewed sadly-the first real sign of any discontent on her part. Nirati’s heart sank a bit, but she salvaged the memory of Keles’ smile. She created its twin on her face, then, in three long strides, reached Nelesquin’s side.

He rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her back around to face whence she had come. He kissed the back of her head, then settled his large hands over her eyes. “Who was that I saw you with, Nirati?”

“My twin, Keles. I dreamed him.”

“Ah, I look forward to meeting him.”

“I warned him of Cyrsa.”

“Better he should warn her of me.” He laughed easily. “Now, my love, the surprise I promised you. Let me just turn us about.”

Neither of them moved. Instead, the whole top of the hill spun slowly. With his hands over her eyes, he hooked his elbows in front of her shoulders and drew her tight against his broad chest. He held her there for a moment, then rested his chin on her head.

“Behold, beloved, what we have wrought.”

His hands fell away and she opened her eyes. She blinked, quickly, for so much sunlight glinted from thousands of pinpoints that she almost shifted day to night to protect her eyes. But they would shine just as brightly in the dark, I am certain.

Below her, the land had sunk between two mountain ranges. Vast plains isolated the foothills from the slender finger of deep blue water thrust deep into the land. On that narrow ocean bobbed dozens of ships-none as large as the Stormwolf, but each large enough to carry hundreds of soldiers. Other ships waited next to quays or in dry docks, ready to be launched.

At the hill’s base, nine formations-nine ranks deep, nine men wide-stood tall and proud in silver mail, with glowing silver helmets. The sunlight reflected from their weapons-and Nirati knew that each ship could carry just such a unit. They reminded her of the ranks of the Naleni army and the Keru, save these men had a blue cast to their flesh, jet-black hair, and-if the two nearest them were models for their race-amber eyes like those of a cat.

The two men approaching them differed from the others in that their armor and helmets had been washed with gold. At twenty feet each dropped to a knee and pounded his right fist to his left shoulder in a salute. They bowed their heads and held those bows for longer than she had ever seen before.

Beyond the time required for a Prince. Then it occurred to her that she had seen such a bow held before. In a temple, when one sought the favor of the gods.

Their heads came up and they both rose as Nelesquin beckoned them forward. They still stopped a respectful distance-just out of reach-yet they had an arrogance that she found both attractive and frightening.

Nelesquin waved a hand toward the one with a snarling ram crest on his helmet. “This is Gachin. He is Dost of the Durrani host. Keerana is his second-in-command.”

Gachin’s eyes narrowed, and the sharpened tips of his ears were visible through hair as he doffed his helmet. Still, he gave her a respectful smile. “The goddess honors us by visiting as we embark. The invasion of the Empire has already begun, but we shall consolidate it, as you desire, goddess.”

Invasion? As I desire? She vaguely recalled Nelesquin mentioning a need to position himself to defend against Cyrsa, but invasion had not been part of it. And yet while she tried to remember what exactly had been said, a part of her knew that invasion was the only way his goals could be accomplished.

Keerana watched her closely. “The goddess is not pleased?”

She shook her head quickly. “It is only the thought of your departure so quickly after our meeting that displeases me. I am certain you will be successful with your endeavor.”

“We shall, goddess, then you shall come with our Lord Nelesquin and reside in Kelewan. We shall raze Quun’s home and build you the most beautiful temple.” Gachin bowed his head confidently.

“Though no temple,” offered his subordinate, “could ever approach your beauty, goddess.”

Nelesquin laughed, then dismissed the two of them with a wave. “Go to your ships. You will take Kelewan and secure all of Erumvirine. From there we shall march north.”

Gachin bowed again, but Keerana raised an eyebrow. “My lord, I would ask your consent on a matter.”

Nelesquin folded arms over his chest. “Speak.”

Though Nelesquin’s tone had not been inviting, Keerana did not quail. “Lord Nelesquin, once we have had the glory of returning Kelewan to your possession, I ask permission to take a third of our force and range south. I have studied all you have made available, and I believe that the Five Princes, in their jealousy and envy, will rise. I wish to punish them swiftly so my lord’s further plans shall not be hampered.”

Nelesquin contemplated the request, then he nodded. “Very well, you have my leave, provided those troops are not needed to consolidate our holding.”

“As you command, lord.” Keerana bowed deeply, then withdrew with Gachin.

Nelesquin smiled down at Nirati. “They are perfect, are they not? Clever, respectful, ambitious, resourceful. They will do well.”

She frowned. “But will not an invasion unleash the same destruction as happened during the Cataclysm?”

“No, not at all. This is the brilliance of Anturasixan.” He opened his arms to take it all in. “I was schooled in the ways of magic, and as your grandfather created this place, we altered reality. We have placed magic both in the land and in those who people the land. None of the Durrani will ever be Mystics, but they do not need to be. Here, in this valley, we bred generation after generation of them, pitting them against each other. You saw it, with Keerana and Gachin. Keerana would replace him in an instant, save Gachin’s clan was ascendant in their last war. The Durrani are brilliant at war, and those who do not fight are gifted as healers, helping keep their companions alive.”

Nirati shivered. “You have re-created the vanyesh?”

He stepped to her and enfolded her in his arms. “Do not believe the tales of the vanyesh. We did not seek magic for power, but merely so we could undo that which wild magic unleashed. We were always mistrusted, but this is because such vast power can be difficult to control. Not here. You yourself control it. Look how you make the day and night pass as you will. You are not evil, nor is the power.”

“Lord Nelesquin has it correctly, granddaughter.”

Upon hearing Qiro’s voice, she turned and managed to keep a smile on her face despite the horror running through her. Her grandfather had been eternal and unchanging. Tall, slender, proud beyond arrogance, with thick white hair, a white goatee and moustaches, Qiro Anturasi had always been an image of power. He ruled Anturasikun as would an emperor, and was treated by many as something more.