There were murmurs of agreement, and in time, the sisters finished their tea and went on their way, no doubt to dissect every word that had been exchanged.

When the door closed behind them, Ehri leaned against it with a sigh. “I can tell you don’t approve, Mayu.”

Mayu had no reason to deny it. “This was your chance to court them, to win them to your side and tell them what the queen attempted.”

“Mayu, my sisters have even less influence than I.” Ehri contemplated the vase full of orange roses that she had placed at the center of the tea table before her sisters arrived. “They would either take Makhi’s side or they would use the conflict between us to make their own bid for the throne, and that would leave Shu Han vulnerable.”

“Are they so ambitious?”

Ehri considered. She plucked a petal that had begun to lose its freshness and crumpled it in her palm. “No. None are born schemers. None were groomed for the throne. But power is compelling, and we’re better off keeping our secrets.”

Mayu watched the princess. “Are you close to your sisters?”

“The way that kebben are? No. I love them, but we’ve never fought.”

“Never?”

“Not really. Oh, we squabbled. I think all sisters do. But we’ve never had a proper fight. Because we never trusted the love we had to carry us through. We have always been very polite with one another. What are you smiling at?”

“I’m thinking of Reyem. The way we used to scream at each other. He bit me once. Hard enough to draw blood.”

“Bit you?”

“I did deserve it. I shaved one of his eyebrows off in his sleep.”

Ehri laughed. “What a monster you must have been.”

“I really was.” But thinking of Reyem was too painful. “He was never mean to me, and he had every chance to be spiteful. My parents favored him, but he always shared—his books, his sweets. He wanted to see me happy.”

“That’s kebben,” Tamar said, entering the room and helping herself to a slice of plum. “One of us cannot be happy if the other is suffering.”

“Then … you understand what I had to do? Why I took Makhi’s mission?”

Tamar popped another slice of plum in her mouth, chewing slowly. “You murdered an innocent man. Isaak was unarmed.”

“He was a liar,” said Ehri, leaping to Mayu’s defense. “A pretender.”

“He was serving his king,” said Tamar.

“Just as I was serving my queen,” Mayu retorted, though the words tasted of ash.

“And yet, only one of you is dead.”

She was right. Isaak had deserved better.

“But you’ll help me find my brother,” said Mayu. She did not phrase it as a question. She couldn’t let her grief and shame overcome her, not until Reyem was free.

“I will. But not for you or your twin. The only way to stop the torture and persecution of Grisha is by locating those khergud laboratories.”

Ehri plucked a string on the khatuur that rested on the tea table. “We have a long road ahead of us, and none of us can make the trip alone. Let’s not waste the journey arguing. We have all suffered losses.”

Mayu rested her hand on the pommel of her talon sword. “What have you lost, Ehri?”

Ehri’s eyes were sad. “Don’t you know, Mayu? My sister.”

At that moment, fireworks burst over the city skyline in two bright showers of blue and gold. Ravka’s colors.

“That’s the signal,” said Tamar. “Queen Makhi’s messenger is on the move.”

* * *

It was said that no one knew all the secrets of the palace at Ahmrat Jen, but the Tavgharad knew more than most. There were hidden entrances for the use of both guards and members of the royal family, secret chambers where royalty could be watched over without being disturbed, and of course, secret exits in case of emergency or uprising.

Mayu led Tamar and Ehri down a hidden staircase to a tunnel that ran beneath the gardens, then emerged beyond the palace walls—or what had been the palace walls. The blight had struck here. This part of the garden and the orchards looked like the remnants of a blast site, but it felt like an old mine that had been worked until it had been stripped down to nothing, a place bled dry of any sort of life.

“What is this?” asked Ehri. “What’s causing it?”

“An enemy for another day,” said Tamar. “Keep moving.”

They followed her down a low slope into the plum orchards, where a coach was waiting, and climbed inside. Tamar spoke to two men on horseback. They were dressed as peasants but carried revolvers.

“To the queen,” Tamar said. But before Mayu could get a better look at the riders, they were off at a gallop, tearing across the fields.

Though the roads near the royal palace were all well maintained, to avoid attention the coach traveled on back-country cart tracks, jouncing with every rut and bump. Mayu and Tamar were both used to hard travel, but even in the shadows of the coach, Mayu could see the princess was miserable.

In her head, Mayu counted the miles of road, seeking landmarks in the dark. If the map in her head was right, they were headed toward the valley of Khem Aba. It was mostly known for farming and ranching, but there might be crags and canyons where someone could hide a government laboratory.

The coach slowed and Tamar opened the door, perching on the step to speak to another man on horseback before he rode on.

“The facility is a mile ahead,” she said as they rolled to a stop. “We should go on foot. We don’t know what might be waiting.”

“The airship?” asked Ehri.

“On its way.”

Ehri worried her lower lip with her teeth. “What if we’re wrong? What if there’s nothing there? If my grandmother—”

“The time for doubt has passed,” said Mayu. “We move forward.”

The night was cold and dark and quiet, the only sounds the singing of frogs and the rustle of the wind in the reeds. Mayu was glad to be out of the coach. She felt safer on her feet, ready to react.

A few minutes later, she saw a large structure with a peaked roof.

“What is that smell?” asked Ehri.

“Manure,” Tamar replied.

A low moo sounded from somewhere ahead.

“It’s a dairy,” Mayu exclaimed.