The only time Inna had ever been to the catacombs was directly after her mother's funeral, when she had snuck out of the palace to visit the royal mausoleum. The catacombs were a complicated network of immense underground chambers with vaulted ceilings, accessible via a long, narrow staircase in Onshra's temple. It was easy to get lost within the maze of dark corridors, so a priest with a torch always accompanied visitors.

The young priest who had escorted Inna underground stood further down the corridor, out of earshot. Inna ignored him and stared at a simple urn with zigzagging, geometric lines painted on its earthen exterior, which stood in one of the small, rectangular niches in the wall. With her finger, she cleared a thin layer of dust off the wooden nameplate at the bottom: Arran Dir Akhta, 525-545.

It had been a month since his death, a month in which Inna's entire world had turned upside down. After the surviving Cultists had fled the city, she had taken over her father's position as ruler of Primsharah and its provinces pending his recovery. She personally supervised the project of rebuilding the city, largely financed with the Palace's coffers, and she had fired most of her father's council members to establish a new council of elected representatives for each district. To show them she hadn't forgotten about them, she had given many of Majidah's men who had assisted in the mob a pardon for lesser crimes and forced the court in handing out milder punishments for the more severe ones. Arran would have been proud, she often thought to herself.

She sighed. The sound echoed through the long corridor and startled the priest, who had been dozing against the wall. Inna scrubbed a hand over her face. In the hectic aftermath of the Cult's attack, she had successfully banned her grief for Arran out of her head; the potions Tata brought her in the evenings to treat her recurrent headaches cleared her nights of dreams. However, now, deep down in the catacombs with Arran's urn filling her sight, she bowed her head and allowed herself to grieve.

"Your Highness?"

Inna looked up. Merriam shuffled into the circle of torchlight with a second priest in her wake. Her dark hair, once thick and glossy, hung in limp, unwashed strands in front of her sunken face. Even in the gloom, the shadows around her eyes stuck out and deep lines disfigured the corners of her mouth, as if she had kept them downturned for a long time. A feverish brilliance shone in her eyes when she met Inna's gaze.

"I hadn't expected to see you here."

"Why not?" Inna asked edgily. A twinge of guilt stirred in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away. She had as much right as Merriam to be here.

Merriam's wariness peeled away, like a snake shedding its skin. Up close, her pallid complexion became even more pronounced. She looked like she had grown ten years older since the last time Inna had seen her, bereft of everything that had made her life worth living.

Merriam shrugged, though it came across more as an involuntary spasm of her shoulder muscles. "I figured you'd be too busy to visit him," she mumbled.

Inna didn't know what to say. She had been busy, but she'd been delaying the confrontation with Arran's grave just as much, afraid to acknowledge the hole in her heart. Ashamed, she averted her gaze.

Merriam didn't seem to notice her discomfort. "I've been coming here every day since ..." Her voice trailed off. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "I know it's just ashes, but it's the closest I can get to him. It's not the same as hearing him laugh or ... or embracing him, but ... Oh gods!" Her knees gave way and Inna hurried to catch her before she would fall. The sound that escaped Merriam was so inhuman, so raw, it raised every hair on Inna's arms and neck. She held the other woman close and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing that she hadn't come, that she could be anywhere but here.

"It's all ... my fault," Merriam hiccuped.

Taken aback, Inna could do nothing but stare at her. If anything, she had expected Merriam to blame her for what had happened. After all, she had sworn to keep her son alive no matter what. Misery wrenched her gut, just like it had the day she had been forced to inform Merriam about her childrens' fates. After Inna had told her, Merriam's gaze had gone blank, as though the person behind it had stood up and left. Inna had walked out of the house feeling like a total failure.

"Merriam, I ... How can this be your fault?" Inna stammered.

"If I had been a better mother, if I hadn't failed so miserably at caring for my own family ..." She rocked back and forth on her heels, wailing softly. "I pushed both of them into the precarious situation that drove them toward those ... those cultists. They did what they did because I was too weak to stop them and fix our problems myself."

"That's not true," Inna said, shaking the other woman.

Merriam gave a rueful laugh, thick with bitter tears. "But it is," she whispered. "It is."

Inna released her. What was there to say? Maybe Merriam was to blame in some way. After his father's banishment, Arran had assumed the responsibility of upgrading his family's status and living conditions to a higher standard. His hatred of poverty had fed his hunger for money at the risk of his life. If Merriam had handled her son with a firmer hand and paid more attention to her daughter's budding mind warping abilities, perhaps both of them would have made different choices.

Perhaps ... But there was no way of knowing for sure.

Inna squared her shoulders and fixed Merriam with a level look. "It doesn't do well for either of us to dwell in the past. It no longer matters who's to blame for what. What matters is that we learn to live with it." The effort of speaking hurt her throat. "Merriam, if ... if there's ever anything I can do for you, no matter what it is, let me know. You're not alone." She rested a hand on Merriam's shoulder.

Merriam nodded vaguely. "Thank you, princess, but there's nothing you can do at the moment."

Realizing she had once again become an intruder in a private moment of grief, Inna turned around and walked away, back to the surface and the sun, which had no business shining so brightly.

***

Instead of returning to the palace the normal way, through the gates, Inna took the underground route through the tunnels. She needed to be alone with her thoughts, and on the streets, she couldn't take two steps without being accosted by citizens, priests or guards who all had an urgent matter to share with her. The two guards she had stationed there on a permanent basis since the Cult's attack greeted her with goofy grins.

"Good morning, Your Highness," the one on the left said. "Did you have a pleasant walk?"

"Very pleasant, Yassen," she answered with a forced smile. "Thank you."

She passed them and wandered through one corridor after the next, thinking about the items and problems that were on the agenda for that day. She turned a corner and almost bumped into Nylah, who flourished a piece of parchment in her hand.

"Ah, Inna, I was just looking for you!" she exclaimed.

Inna had appointed Nylah and Kasmir as her royal advisers: they had been tasked with investigating the Cult and the whereabouts of their members. Even though her city was safe now, Inna wasn't prepared to let them get off so easily. Eyeing the note in her sister's hand, she waited until the expectant drum of her heartbeat had slowed down. "Is there any news?"

"One of our spies has tracked Adira Dir Aktha to the border of the Lelian Jungle," Nylah said. "According to his report, she was accompanied by two other cultists, one of whom wore an obsidian sword on his back. He thinks it might be Warmonger."

The sword of Kaahra Din, one of the ten World Artifacts. Inna gasped. "Could it be?"

Nylah wiggled her eyebrows. "There's more. All three of them were dressed in light clothing and boots, adapted to the jungle's humid climate."

"Is it possible they're looking for something in the jungle?" Inna bit her nails, then realized how much that gesture reminded her of Arran and dropped her hand. "Another World Artifact, perhaps?"

Nylah shrugged. "I won't rule out the possibility. In any case, it's suspicious. What do you want to do?"

The hem of her long dress billowed around her ankles as Inna started walking again with a spring in her step. "Where's Kasmir?"

"In the harem, eating breakfast. Zazi's with him."

Grudgingly, Zazi had agreed to stay behind in Inna's room that morning, since animals weren't allowed in the catacombs.

The two sisters strode to the harem's wing as fast as their long legs would carry them. When they entered the courtyard where most of the Shah's wives and their children enjoyed their breakfast in the shade of a bunch of palm trees, Kasmir indeed sat among them, laughing and chatting with one of their younger sisters while he stuffed dates into his mouth. To Inna's surprise, the Shah was present as well. He was being attended to by Lubna, who had become the first wife after Inna's mother had died. She kept a vigilant eye on him and shooed away any servant who came too close.

The Shah blinked and straightened up when he spotted Inna. She bent down to kiss his hand. "Good morning, baba. How are you feeling today?"

He licked his lips and frowned, searching for the right words. Rabyatt's long-lasting spell on his mind had affected his speech to such an extent that some days, he barely managed to form a coherent sentence. Today, however, seemed to be a good day.

"Good," he said. "I'm good."

"I'm glad to hear that, baba."

She made to turn around, but his fingers closed around her arm; his grip was stronger now that he no longer languished in front of a fake Sphere of Truths all day long. She met his troubled gaze, suppressing her impatience.

"I am ... proud of you." He smiled, showing off the dimple in his left cheek. It was the same smile he had used when she had followed him around as a little girl, eager to learn about the responsibilities of a ruler. "A queen ... born to rule."

A lump had formed in her throat at his words. She pressed another kiss on the back of his tanned hand. "Only thanks to your guidance, baba," she murmured. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lubna crack a grim smile. Inna bowed to both of them and turned to join Nylah and Kasmir on a large, soft pillow.

Zazi lifted her head and greeted her with a soft hiss and a flick of her forked tongue. Kasmir held out his bowl of dates as she sank down, but she declined the offer with a quick wave of her hand.

"I'm not hungry," she said. She glanced around the courtyard to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation, but the wives' lively chatter provided sufficient cover against curious ears. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice and asked, "Has Nylah told you about the newest developments regarding the Cult?"

Kasmir swallowed a mouthful of sweet dates and nodded. "If they really possess Warmonger and now they're looking for another Artifact in the Lelian Jungle, we're running out of time."

"I agree. That's why I'm sending the two of you to Kartún."

Nylah's mouth dropped open and Kasmir stared at her, another date forgotten in his hand.

"Why Kartún?" he asked. "Shouldn't we follow the cultists into the jungle—"

"Isn't it obvious?" she interrupted him, a hint of impatience shimmering through in her tone. "Kartún was attacked by the Cult months ago. That can't have been without a reason. Don't you ever wonder where all those refugees went afterwards? It's unlikely they all perished in the siege and they clearly didn't come knocking on our gates."

"Of all the cities by the Nahiri river, Kartún lies closest to the Lelian Jungle," Nylah observed. "If there used to be a World Artifact in Kartún and the Cult failed to acquire it, the jungle would be a logical place to hide it from them. Provided that the native tribes didn't kill the refugees first, of course."

Inna stroked Zazi's head with an absent hand. "Indeed. For now, I want you to send our spy after Adira and her companions, preferably with reinforcements of his own, and you yourselves to travel to Kartún to find out what happened and, if Kartún ever possessed one of the ten Artifacts, to discover which Artifact that was."

"When do you want us to leave?" Kasmir inquired.

"Tonight," Inna replied. "You have the entire day to make arrangements for the trip. If anyone asks where you're going, you're visiting one of our coastal cities on a diplomatic mission."

"You're really getting the hang of this, aren't you, Your Majesty?" Nylah grinned. "Spoken like a true Shahbano."

One corner of Inna's mouth turned upward. "Don't forget to say goodbye before you leave."

Smoothing out the crinkles in the skirt of her dress, she pushed herself off the pillow and strode back inside with Zazi close on her heels. She had a meeting with the Rasirian ambassador in a few minutes, who would undoubtedly hear her out about the mysterious disappearance of a certain Rasirian prince, but she slowed down her pace to stretch out this rare moment of peace for a little while longer.

Primsharah might be safe, one battle had been won, yet the war was far from over. The Cult was still several steps ahead. Inna thought of Warmonger, of another hidden World Artifact in the Lelian Jungle, and her hand crept to the soulstone in her pocket. It was warm as ever, almost expectant, but she didn't take it; Ezahar could not give her any answers she hadn't already guessed herself. Her other hand played with the Amulet of Doom, now just an ordinary necklace hanging around her neck.

She smirked.

Ezahar might not be of much help as long as she remained locked up in the amber stone, but Onshra's tongue was no longer restrained by Idran The Wicked's curious curse. Perhaps, with a bit of luck and the necessary flatteries, she could gain more valuable information from him.

On an impulse, she made a right turn and walked onto a balcony overlooking the palace gardens. The sweet, heady fragrance of the multitude of exotic flowers reminded her of her mother, though this time, her heart didn't sink at the thought of the woman whose words marked her spine. On the contrary, she felt lighter on her feet than she had been since that fatal day in the throne room a month ago. With her brother and sister by her side and a god watching over her beloved city, she didn't have to be alone anymore.

"The Cult of Idran had better watch out," she whispered into the morning air. "One day, we'll come for all of you."

A shadow passed in front of the sun. In that split second between dark and light, Inna could have sworn that a pair of crimson eyes blinked at her.