The dip of the mattress woke her. A cool hand stroked across her hair and face like she were a cat, and like a cat, she stretched and yawned. She opened her eyes to meet sapphire blue ones, rimmed with red, smudges of shadows below them.

"You look so much like her when you sleep."

Rina shot back toward the middle of the bed. "Your Magnificence!"

Mai clucked his tongue and gripped her shoulder, holding her in place. "No need for that. Just Mai."

"What are you doing here? I was waiting for high-magister Ro and..." Her words faded at his grimace.

"The last thing I'd do is let the likes of Ro get her claws into you, and..." He paused, his forefinger brushing a line from her temple to cheek. "I miss my family, and asleep, with that hair, you reminded me so much of Elia." A sad smile spread on his face. "Yet now, with your yellow eyes on me, I see Arkis too."

Rina closed her eyes. "I let you down today, Your Magnificence."

"Mai—and how?" he said, his voice kind as he corrected her.

She resisted looking at him, but he drew her eyes all the same. "I ignored Magister Pilo's instructions and stood on and did nothing as my friend tortured a man."

Mai's mouth warped. "That man, Cassander, is dirt beneath your feet. Any man who forces himself on a woman is—" Mai hissed something in a language Rina couldn't understand, though the words sent something ice-cold scuttling down her spine. "Cassander will be punished. But sadly, so will your friend." He held up a hand as she made to speak. "I brought each of you here to show Eurora, most importantly the Magisterium, that your people could be trusted—to allow you to learn how to use your gifts and create beautiful things. Sara tainted her gift of healing by breaking a man. No matter what the reason for her actions, they were unforgivable."

She wanted to beg him to pardon Sara, but he was right—Sara had stooped to Lord Cassander's level, perhaps further. However, Mai was merciful, and his judgement would be—

Propping herself up on one elbow, she asked, "Will you judge her?"

His lips quirked. "Do you want me to?"

Rina furrowed her brows, then looked down, fiddling with the bedspread. "That's not for me to ask."

"Didn't you do exactly that?"

One of his hands rested on the mattress. His fingers inched toward hers, pale against the wine-red material, then they stilled, the tip of his forefinger an inch from her own. Her fingertips warmed. Glancing at him, she watched as his lips curled back, revealing straight white teeth with those slightly elongated incisors. The vein at his neck pulsed. She felt its rhythm reflected in her jaw, and her mouth became wet. He tilted his head, as if in invitation, and a part of her questioned if he did it on purpose.

She yanked her hand back. "No—but I hope you do."

"Why?"

"Because you are not only Mai the Magnificent—you are Mai the Merciful."

He scoffed and said, "Propaganda," then stood and walked from the bed. "Come, enjoy the view with me."

The faintest tug pulled at her chest, urging her to follow. She moved her hand to the carnelian crystal sewn under her skin, pushing Fin's pendant aside as she did. She considered Mai. The man before her appeared like... Well, just a man. Almost frail with that translucent alabaster skin lit by the afternoon sun. She swung her legs over the bed, aware of a building ache in her bladder, and eyed the corridor to the guard robe longingly—how to tell a demi-god of her very-human needs.

When she looked at him again, she realised she needn't of bothered. A smirk danced across his mouth. "Go on."

She joined him on the balcony a few minutes later, having relieved herself and chewed some clove seeds to freshen her breath. Her cheeks heated. He leaned against the railing, heedless of the hundred feet stretching between him and the ground. "We all have natural demands. There's no need to be ashamed."

She flushed deeper, refusing to discuss her bodily functions with a god-like emperor. Ignoring him, she peered over the stone balustrade and instantly regretted it. The rock curved under, giving the illusion of floating above the city. Lower down, the cliff glistened from the waterfall, and tendrils of green mossy plants hung like fraying curtains. The waterfall was a snare drum, the trill of a nightingale a melody, and the metallic twang—what was that? Her eyes followed the sound, and she spotted the metal cable, tense and thrumming.

A shoulder brushed against her. Rina could feel Mai's smile. "Watch."'

She did—heard it too. The vibration became a whine that cut through the air like a warm knife through butter, and a wooden carriage materialised, moving fast as a horse, then disappeared again.

Mouth open, she stared. A finger pushed her chin up, and her teeth clacked together.

"What was that?"

"That," he said smugly, "is technology."

Frowning, she asked, "Technology?"

"Invention without magic—without the Carnelian Way."

"Like a horse and cart, or a ship?"

One hand took hers, holding it gently. "More like a ship. You see—" He twisted and pointed to a cascade of water. "The water spins a wheel that moves a loop of cable up and down the mountain."

She worried her lip. "I thought that ships were wind-powered."

"Yes, but wind and water are both natural elements."

"Isn't the Carnelian Way?"

His fingers pressed hers. "Smart girl. Yes, it is, and yet, even with the right blood, few people are gifted with the ability to influence with the Carnelian Way." He gave her a meaningful expression. "Even fewer can wield it."

Wield? Influence? What did he mean? Weren't they the same? She asked him as much, and he laughed.

"Have you noticed how some people can talk and talk without thinking, making no real sense, and still influence people. Others wield a few words but captivate their audience?"

Confused at his meaning, but able to relate to the experience, Rina nodded.

A bird flew overhead, calling out to the lowering sun.

"They're both gifts, tools, but as different as a hammer to a chisel." He turned her hand over and trailed a fingernail down the lifeline of her palm. She shivered. "Your friend, Anat, learned this lesson the hard way."

Rina stiffened, and Mai made a clucking sound. "This isn't to upset you, Rina. It's a truth you need to comprehend." He folded her fingers into a fist and released her. "Anat used her gift to attract Cassander."

"That was only flirting. Her gift is in growing a harvest—like mine."

A dark eyebrow raised. "You have many more gifts, my dear, but we're talking about your friend. To harvest is to plant seeds and create life, yes?"

Gulping, she nodded.

"To do that outside a garden, say in one's womb, one must entice a partner, mustn't one?"

She nodded again, not quite liking the direction he was taking.

"You see, Rina, the Carnelian Way is creation. Different people have different talents taken from the same source. Life. There are many ways to create life—or end it. As I was saying, Anat flirted, as you put it, with Cassander, luring him with all the finesse of someone swinging a hammer to marble and hoping to carve a work of art. She got his attention. Influenced him. Yet, if she had been able to wield her gift, he would have eaten out of her hand. She could have been a lady. He would have given her anything she desired. Now, though, he took what he wanted and...

"Stop!"

The gaze her turned upon her was firm, then softened. "I'm sorry if I am too blunt."

"Will she be okay?"

"Don't you worry. I promise she will be just fine. After a little time, when this has died down, the two of you will return to the women's quarters to resume your lessons, and everything will be as before."

She swallowed, hesitating before saying, "And Sara. There is no hope?

The smooth plane of Mai's forehead creased. "Why do you continue about her? What is she to you?"

"She made a mistake. People make mistakes, and—"

"Like your uncle—your parents?"

Her heart squeezed, and dread trickled through her body. Unable to speak, she bit her lip.

"We might share the same blood, but I'm an emperor, my dear—a very long-lived one at that. I don't like to be pressured."

She dropped to her knees. "Forgive me, Your Magnificence."

He caught her before she reached the ground and pulled her up."Enough," he sighed. Tight black spirals fell across his brow. "I may not like to be pressured, but," he smiled a rueful crooked smile, "I miss being just a man and talked to like one." He turned to look out to the wire. "Ask me about that."

She narrowed her eyes, taking in the way his fingers dug into the rock.

"Why technology?"

"Ah, that," he said as if he hadn't told her to ask. Like this was a casual conversation between equals. "Nature has already set the waterfall in motion—I'm only harnessing its energy. This is much safer than the Carnelian Way. Especially for people who don't understand how to wield it."

"Is this why you're teaching us?"

An almost fanatical gleam crossed his eyes. "Rina, my dear, you can't imagine what Hypat was like at its pinnacle." He indicated the sprawling mountain city and out to the glistening bay full of ships. "This—it's nothing. Nothing. The Carnelian Way flowed through Denea's veins and into the blood of its people. Many couldn't wield it, but all had its influence."

"But the Magisterium—"

Mai's hand sliced through the air. "Is nothing. Nothing compared to what the Denese mages were."

"And yet they destroyed everything—that's the point, isn't it?"

"Because they didn't want anyone different—anyone half-blooded like me to wield it. If only we could find a way for more Carnelian Way to flow through our land—harnessed by trustworthy people—and invest in technology—by the gods, the potential."

We? She wondered at the use of the word, but instead, she said, "To what end?"

"Why to rebuild Hypat—no, all of Denea. To reverse the Devastation."

★☾●☽★

A/N: Thank you again for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please consider letting me know and pushing that star. Didn't like it—I would love to know why. 

Jas oxox