A pair of solid, familiar arms closed around Esmera while she rocked on her knees, trapped in the agony of a moment she had no power to escape from. The sound of Tauram's life beating in her ears slowly drowned out the sound of Yandriya's death.

He rested his chin on Esmera's head, steadying her while forcing Jammas to forsake his favourite perch. The lark fluttered around Esmera's head, frantic with worry despite being indignant at his eviction.

Esmera knew it was Tauram she rested her cheek against without him needing to speak because she smelt his cool, icy pine scent, because she recognised the racing rhythm of his heart that seemed so at odds with his languorous movements.

"It's okay, Esmera. You're okay," he murmured, his voice alone enough to soothe her terror, her devastation, even if it didn't quell it.

Esmera opened her eyes with a gasp, like a person who had just surfaced from under water. She looked up at Tauram, who was watching her with a soft, gentle gaze. Even Lundas rubbed against her side, purring consolations she couldn't understand.

"You're safe now." Tauram's fingers brushed against Esmera's cheek as if going to cradle it, but then he pulled his hand back as if thinking better of it.

Everything became too much, overburdening a moment that wasn't built for it. Esmera's eyes blurred, and then she was sobbing. Despite himself, Tauram's arms tightened around her, and despite herself, she pressed herself against his chest.

It was only right that Esmera crumble. She shouldn't even exist, not anymore. She had been meant to die here with her family, and she might've if her mother hadn't thought so quickly.

Yandriya wasn't going to die. Ruagu had no intention of killing her, if he had even been honest, but she had given up her life for her child's. It was that life Esmera couldn't waste.

No more crying. No more working dead-end jobs with unreasonable hours. No more searching for love in people who had none to give. No more faltering uncertainty or cowardly cowering.

Esmera was going to kill Ruagu, whether or not she had the Finnaaz army at her disposal, and she would look him in the eye when she did it, just as he had done to every member of her family.

Esmera took a deep breath, giving her goal a moment to settle into her mind. When she had the composure to look beyond herself, she saw Lady Varali lying curled on the floor while Belaren and Anjarah knelt beside her, both frowning their concern.

"Lady Varali! Are you okay?" Not yet steady enough to leave Tauram's arms, Esmera reached out and took the other woman's feeble hand in hers.

"I am. Memory-walking drains away a lot of one's energy, that is all." Lady Varali gave Esmera a wan smile. "I hope you got whatever you needed from exploring your past."

Esmera hadn't gotten the closure she had hoped for or the method of activation for the weapon she had expected, but she did know what it was, and she understood why Ruagu was afraid of it.

A single dagger or spear may not be enough to destroy him, but an army could overwhelm his, strip away his power, bring him to his knees in payment for all the blood he had spilt.

"I did," Esmera told Lady Varali, squeezing her hand to show her gratitude. "Thank you."

Still smiling weakly, the lady pulled herself into a sitting position. She looked up at her brother, and Esmera didn't miss how her eyes very deliberately avoided Anjarah. "When did you get here?"

"We just arrived." Belaren glanced at Anjarah, who was now looking at her feet. "Tauram called us. He was worried that Esmera was in pain and you were looking weaker as you continued to navigate the Finnaz Estate's memories. He thought you could use our help, and he was right because you just collapsed."

Lady Varali blinked. "It was quite a long, harrowing journey. I guess I'm not as young as I once was. I've never collapsed before." She frowned down at herself.

"It's always extra exhausting to explore memories of murder. I remember Ajai mentioning that to me once. You're as strong as you ever were, Varali." Belaren squeezed his sister's shoulder. "Still, I should get you home," said Belaren, frowning as he studied his sister.

Like Esmera, he must notice the dark circles under Lady Varali's eyes and the wrinkles around her mouth that hadn't been there when Esmera and Tauram met her at the Finnaaz Estate earlier that day.

Even so, she showed she was the same Lady Varali who Esmera had first been acquainted with in the Vinsingh Manor when she rolled her eyes. "There's no need for that. I brought myself here, didn't I? I can take myself back home."

"Not in that state you can't. I won't allow it." Belaren folded his arms and remained beside Lady Varali.

The siblings engaged in a clash of glares, eyes equally fierce, mouths just as tense. It was impossible to tell who would win the battle until Lady Varali faltered, wincing and pressing her finger to her temple.

"I suppose I could use some help. It feels as though my skull is about to crack open." Lady Varali took the hand her brother held out and pointedly ignored the one Anjarah offered her while Belaren helped her to her feet.

The other woman pulled her palm back and pressed it against her side, unmistakable hurt flickering across her face, hurt Lady Varali either couldn't or didn't see.

Esmera remembered how little Lady Varali thought of Anjarah. She had seemed disgusted at how easily Belaren had let a commoner break his heart into so many pieces that he would desert his family and his kingdom, but Esmera wondered if all or at least most of that disdain was for Anjarah herself. Either way, Lady Varali clearly wasn't as ready to forgive her as Belaren was, and she didn't care to pretend otherwise.

Belaren said nothing even as the flattening of his mouth told Esmera that he had noticed the non-verbal exchange. He gave Anjarah a look. She nodded subtly at the command in his eyes, clasping her spurned hands in front of her.

The lord then surveyed the side chamber where they stood. It had been small when it held Lady Yandriya, her baby, and her familiar, but with everyone now in it, it felt even tinier.

"I saw you came with your carriage." Belaren's dark eyes found his sister. "I'd summon it to us so you wouldn't have to tire yourself out by walking to it, but it'll never fit in this room. Come, I'll help you along." He offered his sister his arm, and she took it, even as she grumbled that she was just a bit worn but not injured.

Lady Varali left the chamber with a frail wave that did little to convince Esmera of her assertion. Her words still had the same sharpness, but her tone didn't give them the same bite, her eyes didn't punctuate them with harshness. What if she was hurt, and it was all Esmera's fault?

Belaren must've felt Esmera's eyes on his back because he turned, and the smile he gave her wasn't sarcastic as she had grown used to. It seemed to promise her that everything was okay, and she chose to take his word for it as he and his sister left the room.

Lady Varali had been a memory walker for years. She had seen her own sister-in-law and niece die and survived that memory. She ruled an entire state in her older brother's stead. It would take more than a single afternoon to destroy her, and that was some consolation.

Esmera's eyes wandered over to the wall, and her feet followed their lead as Tauram helped her up and trailed after her.

She touched her fingers to the plaster. It reminded her of the one in her first foster family's basement. She'd had hours to study its bland colour and the scattered bubbles of dampness when her foster mother had locked her down there after her six-year-old self had tried and failed to babysit three smaller children and prepare dinner on time.

This wall, however, had a story unlike any other. It had separated a baby from the mother she would never know outside of a few memories, leading one of them into a cruel death and the other into a cruel life. Esmera wasn't sure which was better, but she had no choice about it. Yandriya had chosen for her, and her duty was to make her mother's sacrifice worth it.

Anjarah's worn shoes scuffed against the floor as she shuffled closer to Esmera and Tauram, Samier skittering along beside her. "I think I'd better stay with you." She gave a sheepish smile as she met Esmera's eyes, and there was no need for her to say anything more.

"You're always welcome with us. You know that." Esmera managed a smile for Anjarah as she came to her side.

Lundas didn't agree, snarling at Samier. The multi-coloured bird rushed behind Anjarah's legs, where he was safe. Jammas, in the meantime, reclaimed his space on Esmera's head now that it was vacant.

Anjarah smiled back at Esmera, following her gaze to the wall, but her eyes were distant as if she wasn't looking at it at all. Maybe they were looking into a future where Lady Varali welcomed her to the dinner table with open arms. Maybe they looked into a past where her father had never forced her to break Belaren's heart.

Esmera felt steady enough on her feet to step out of Tauram's grip, but when he released her, dizzying grief descended on her, sending her stumbling beneath its swift, vicious assault. Tauram caught her, and she clung to him despite commanding herself not to.

Esmera was a survivor, she would be her family's saviour, and she was also a sucker for Prince Tauram. Worst of all, she couldn't tell which of those things weighed heaviest on her in that moment.

"Are you okay?" Tauram brought Esmera close to him and spoke softly with that knack he had for making her forget there was someone else in the room with them.

She tried to look away from Tauram, but his gaze held her in place, mesmerising her.

Esmera's eyes filled with tears for the umpteenth time that day. No, she wanted to say. I'm not, and I want to be close to you, but she didn't because Tauram had told her that he wanted to put some distance between them, and the last thing she wanted to do was disrespect that.

"Yes," Esmera said instead, willing her tears away, and for the first time, it worked. They receded, and all that remained of them was a memory.

Outside, she was the same Esmera she had always been, with long curls and soft, thin skin, but inside, she was different. She was one of those spiky flowers Jammas had brought her once, charming with its bright colours but sharp enough to draw blood from careless fingers.

Esmera squared her shoulders. Tauram put his hands on them, and they lingered too long for someone who had barely touched her since that morning and said that he would no longer allow himself to. So did his eyes, but Esmera couldn't comprehend the look within them. Was it pity? Pride? Something else?

Anjarah cleared her throat. "So, what's the next step of our mission?"

Esmera was only too glad to break Tauram's stare as she looked to the other woman, her cheeks warming and then turning blazing when she sensed that the prince's gaze was on her.

It had been so long since Anjarah had accompanied Esmera on a mission-related quest that Esmera had almost forgotten she had agreed to help them meet Jilhari's ultimatum.

"We need to see if the weapon is still destroyed, and if it is...we need to think of a way to fix it." Esmera slipped out of Tauram's grip. She expected that he'd take hold of some part of her the way he usually did, hoped, even, that he'd do that, but he only shoved his hands back into his pockets and trailed after Esmera.

It stung, but perhaps it was for the best. Esmera needed to focus on the mission, on vengeance, not on how tempting Tauram's arms were when he pulled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, not on how youthfully charming his black hair was when it fell over his playful eyes.

Together with Anjarah, they arrived in the main chamber at the front of the vault. The years had dilapidated the space. Nobody, not a master or servant of the house, remained to cover the cracks or repaint the ceilings. Even so, everything was exactly as it had been in the memory Esmera had wandered through, even the hundreds of piles of dirt that were all that remained of the Finnaaz army. The door stood open, unafraid of the vault it guarded being plundered because it had nothing left to offer except for secrets only a select few could access.

"This is the weapon?" Tauram raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Esmera frowned at him, confused until she remembered that while he hadn't strayed too far from her and Lady Varali while they explored the memories, he hadn't seen any of them for himself.

She turned her gaze to the vault sprawled before her. "This used to be an army before Ruagu tricked my brother Givan into destroying it."

"Why did he do that? What would make such a man threaten an innocent little boy?" Anjarah beheld the sight in front of her. Esmera could've sworn that there were tears in her eyes, but she blinked, and they were gone like a trick of the light.

Esmera let out a breath. "He needed the army gone because it was the only thing in existence that could defeat his yaoguai allies."

"Then it's our only way of defeating him." Tauram's eyes were steely as they met Esmera's. Something about his expression resonated with her, probably because the vengeance in him called out to her. "There must be some way we can rebuild it."

Esmera looked around at the piles of earth. She hadn't noticed the size of them when she was in the memory realm, but they stood up to her waist. Each of their broken pieces could fit in her palm. It would take years for her and her friends to reassemble the terracotta soldiers, and who knew if the enchantment that animated them would even work then?

She shook her head. She had been in Milatanur long enough to know that even magic had its limitations. "I don't think we can fix the army. I have a feeling that only its original creator can remake it."

Anjarah's gaze landed on Esmera now. "And who would that be?" she asked, reminding Esmera that she too had not been privy to the details hidden in the Finnaaz Manor's memories.

"The god Nuredir." Esmera looked between Tauram and Anjarah as both their eyes widened. "What?" She frowned as her friends exchanged a look.

It was Tauram who spoke, his eyes narrowed in thought. "There are plenty of gods who have disappeared into their realms. Nuredir is one of them. He hasn't been seen by a single Milatanuran in centuries."

Esmera's heart sank. Maybe there was some magic hidden on her family's estate that could salvage what remained of their secret army, but it would take too long to find it, if Lady Varali was even in any shape to search through the past after the events of that day. As long a shot as Nuredir was, he was their only hope, but if nobody knew where to start looking for him, what were Esmera's chances of finding him?

Anjarah rocked on her feet. "I might be able to help you with that."

Tauram and Esmera both looked at her with expectant eyes.

Anjarah gave a self-conscious smile. "The myths speak of his sister, the goddess Zaha. She loves leading mortals to Nuredir's lair because she knows how little he likes to be disturbed. It's a well-described part of their sibling dynamic."

Bothering a god who didn't want to be bothered didn't sound like a good idea, but it was a risk Esmera was willing to take to save the kingdom, to keep the wrath of all the deities in and around it from tearing it apart.

"All we need to do is find her and ask her to take us to Nuredir." Anjarah adjusted her bun where it sat perfectly at the top of her head.

Esmera wasn't sure if it would be that easy. It never seemed to be when it came to the gods, but before she could answer, Tauram was gesturing to Lundas, and the clouded leopard was running in circles around the group.

Jammas rustled in Esmera's hair, as impatient to be on his way as she was.

A moment later, they appeared in the neglected garden of the Finnaaz estate that had peeped into the vault through a grimy skylight.

Esmera's gaze evaded the manor, as hard as it was to avoid looking at such a big structure. The house and everything that had happened inside it was part of her past. She had to leave it behind her in order to move forward. 

"Where should we start looking?" asked Esmera, her voice made hoarse from screaming and crying.

Beyond the estate's boundaries, there were countless trees and jagged mountains separated from them by valleys and horizons.

Anjarah leaned over the fence containing the Finnaaz estate and gestured at the rocky shelves forming a steep staircase to the bottom of the valley. "There."