Someone could call themselves a hero and still walk around killing dozens. Someone else could be labelled a villain for trying to stop them. Plenty of humans were monstrous, and plenty of monsters knew how to play at being human. -- Victoria Schwab, Vicious

The stone floor was abnormally cold. She could feel its chill through the soles of her boots. In front of her stood the coffin. She reached out and grasped the lid. For some reason it wasn't cold. It was so warm it almost felt like a living thing. She pulled and pulled at the lid. It slid open slowly. It almost seemed to move independently of her, opening further when she wasn't pulling it. At last it leaned against the wall. The body in the coffin stood motionless before her.

All the mud had disappeared from its clothes. They were back to their original blood red colour, even more vivid than she remembered. Its veil was more opaque than before. That was odd. Funeral veils were supposed to be transparent enough for you to see the person's face. A cold breeze whistled through the graveyard. It tugged at the edges of the veil.

The veil slipped off the corpse's head. It happened so quickly she hardly had time to realise it was happening at all. Her own face stared back at her.

Abihira jolted awake with a strangled yelp. For a minute she blinked up at her ceiling. Where was the corpse? Why was it so bright?

Gradually her mind woke up fully and she realised where she was. She was safe in her own bedroom. The corpse was safe inside the coffin. It was still early morning. The bell summoning everyone to breakfast hadn't sounded yet. It would have wakened her if it had.

Her sleep had been restless and far too short, full of the sort of dreams that made you reluctant to go back to sleep. Dreams of things with too many teeth, of being buried alive, of bodiless eyes staring at her out of graves. Her most recent dream hadn't even been the most disturbing of them all. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. No point in going back to sleep.

In a few hours Ilaran would report Haliran to her grandmother. In a few hours Haliran would reveal Abihira's necromancy to the entire court.

That thought made her sit up straight. Suddenly horror-struck, she looked around wildly for the clock. In Seroyawa there had always been a clock on her bedside table. She stared blankly at the space where it should be. Then her mind overtook her alarm and she remembered she was in Saoridhlém. Here her clock was on the writing desk on the other side of the room. A very inconvenient arrangement; she had to get out of bed and walk over to see what time it was. That was probably why it had been put there in the first place.

Abi blinked owlishly at the clock. Its numbers might as well have been an untranslated form of Hesnmor[1] for all she understood of them. After her disturbed sleep she was still so tired that her mind automatically went to the Seroyawan time divisions she was more familiar with. It took her several minutes to decipher the numbers and convert them into something she recognised.

It was almost eight o'clock. (Ateyan-uhimeru,[2] her mind substituted.) No wonder she wasn't fully awake yet. She hadn't gone to bed until roge-tsukawen. (After four o'clock, she corrected herself.)

The breakfast bell would ring at half eight. Politicians and petitioners wouldn't start to gather in the Silver Palace until eleven at the earliest. Ilaran had never actually told Abi or Irímé when he intended to go to the empress. The most likely time was after dinner. Now, should she attend court today or not? Abi weighed up the pros and cons. In the face of this new problem she completely forgot she was still in her nightclothes, still standing in front of the clock, and still apparently studying it with an expression of deepest concentration.

On the one hand it'll be the most exciting thing to happen in court for years. On the other, I never attend court. I'll get to see Haliran publicly humiliated and arrested. But then I'll have to be there when she denounces me. Everyone will think that looks suspicious. And what will I say about Siarvin?

That thought brought back the uncomfortable memory of what Ilaran had so calmly admitted during the ball. How could she stand by and let everyone think Siarvin was just an innocent, helpless victim when she knew he had killed a baby? Haliran's sins didn't cancel out his.

If I report Siarvin's crime everyone will say he's as bad as Haliran, she thought.

Moral dilemmas made everything so complicated. A month ago she would have had no hesitation in condemning anyone who killed a baby. Such a person could be nothing but irredeemably evil. Yet now she was confronted with someone who had actually done it, and someone else who defended him, and she found she couldn't call either of them irredeemably evil. What a mess!

Necromancy is so much simpler than this.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Abi abruptly found herself called back to reality. She turned round to see Kiriyuki standing behind her.

Mercifully Kiriyuki said nothing about her staring at a clock as if it held all the secrets of the universe. Not that it was much comfort, considering what she did say. "That thing last night."

She paused. Abi waited for her to continue. The silence stretched out. Kiriyuki cleared her throat again. She looked at the floor, then the wall, then the window. If she looked at Abi at all it was only for the briefest of moments.

Others might have been bemused by this behaviour. Abi had seen it before, on the far from infrequent occasions when Kiriyuki's father had something to criticise her for. This was Kiriyuki-ese for 'I'm partly to blame for this and I don't know what to do about it'. Odd, when this was one case when she wasn't actually to blame for something.

At long last she finished, "Was it one of yours?"

No point in denying it to someone who already knew about the necromancy. "Of course."

Kiriyuki looked so woebegone she strongly resembled a criminal who'd just been handed a death sentence. "You did that because I told you to prove you could do it, didn't you?"

Amidst all the chaos of the last few hours Abi had completely forgotten her foster sister's blackmail attempt. It had been overshadowed by the other, far more serious blackmail attempt.

Kiriyuki took her silence for agreement. "Why did you have to choose such a noticeable place? The whole city's talking about it."

Was this a good time to mention Irímé's excuse?

"Sooner or later someone will connect it to you. If you wanted to prove it to me, why didn't you just ask me to come to whatever graveyard you dug that thing out of?"

"I didn't think," Abi said. "Things went wrong." What an understatement. "That wasn't--" Planned, she was about to say, but her pride stopped her finishing the sentence. An idea struck her at that moment. "Are you going to court today?"

Kiriyuki's morose expression was replaced with a disgruntled one. "I have to. Uncle Arikimi is here and he wants to talk to me."

Abihira suppressed a grin. The emperor's younger brother was one of the strictest members of the royal family. When he wanted to talk to someone, the bravest person alive would rather dive down a hole and pull it in after them than face his lectures. "I'll come with you. For moral support."

From the look on Kiriyuki's face anyone would have thought she'd offered to hand him a broom so he could sweep up whatever remained of Kiriyuki when he was finished.

Ilaran had gone over his plan hundreds of times from the minute he woke up. He thought of it while he had his breakfast. He thought of it during his morning prayers. He thought of it as he made a last minute review of all the incriminating documents Siarvin had gathered against Haliran. He even thought of it when playing a game of torgýn[3] with Shizuki -- which was probably why he lost so badly.

"Can I come?" Shizuki asked as he got ready to leave.

Ilaran thought about it. Things wouldn't go well for either of them if Shizuki was seen in a place as important as the Silver Palace. People in general tended to react badly to the sight of anything unusual. A boy with green scales on his face was unusual by anyone's standards, and the palace's denizens were notorious for overreacting. "Can you hide somewhere out of sight?"

Shizuki nodded. "Can hide anywhere. Want to see Haliran burn."

"All right then. Just try not to let anyone see you."

To his surprise Shizuki turned into a snake and slithered off at once. He crawled through the open window and was gone before Ilaran could say anything.

"Haliran won't be there herself," he called after him.

If Shizuki heard he didn't think it was important enough to reply. Ilaran shrugged and went on folding documents into a file. When he finished that he brushed his hair and put on the traditional diadem worn by members of the Saoridhin royal family. This was one time when deliberately wearing Tananerlish clothes would not have the desired effect. He wanted Raivíth to listen to him, not be offended by a blatant reminder of how much he disliked his mother's family. He also needed to remind her she was his mother's family, so he was legally a member of the Sinistrah clan[4].

He frowned critically at his reflection. Damn it, he looked like something that had just crawled out of a grave. His hair hung limply around his face, looking as if he hadn't washed it for weeks even though he'd washed it yesterday. Once, when he was younger and vainer -- well, as vain as he ever had been -- he had considered his hair the only good thing about his appearance. Mainly because it was one of the few things he hadn't inherited from his father. He got his mother's eyes -- which hardly did him much good when her entire family and the land they ruled believed green eyes were a sign of misfortune -- and his grandmother's hair colour, but his face was entirely his father's. It had angered him once. Now he had reconciled himself to it, and only resented how tiredness showed so plainly -- and so easily; even a single sleepless night left him looking like he hadn't slept for a week -- on his face. The circles under his eyes were so dark, especially when compared to how pale the rest of his face was, that they could almost be mistaken for eyeshadow. Worse, they could be mistaken for very badly-applied eyeshadow that had been put on in the dark without consulting a mirror.

When you were ruling prince of a province as chaotic as Tananerl you learnt all sorts of strange and unusual skills. Skills no other royals ever had any need to learn. How to embroider the standards of ten different clans just in case someone misplaced their own banner in the middle of a tournament, for example. How to prepare food well enough to replace the palace cook in case of an emergency. And how to apply your own make-up to conceal bruises, injuries, or any sign of illness. Certain members of his court believed Ilaran was invulnerable to weapons after he came through several battles without so much as a scratch. He let them keep on believing that. It was better for morale if they believed he could magically deflect blows than if they knew he covered up his injuries with carefully-applied make-up.

A very faint dusting of powder, and he looked marginally less like a walking corpse. Painful experience had taught him he couldn't do anything about how pale he was, unfortunately. Not without putting on so much make-up he turned himself into a clown.

Ilaran checked to make sure none of the make-up had gotten on his clothes, straightened his diadem even though it wasn't crooked, and picked up the file of papers. He was as ready as he'd ever be. Now for it.

In these clothes he blended in with all the other inhabitants of the city. No one spared him a second glance as he walked to the hotel. Koyuki was waiting for him, sitting on one of the benches placed beside the front door.

"Haliran drove past here about ten minutes ago," he said by way of greeting.

That was just the sort of thing calculated to reassure Ilaran. For a few seconds he panicked, his mind automatically jumping to the conclusion she had somehow found out about Koyuki being here and was lying in wait for them somewhere. Common sense took over almost immediately. "Did she stop?"

Koyuki shook his head. "She drove on towards the shops--" He waved vaguely to the left, "--over there. She had someone with her."

All the better if it's one of her accomplices, Ilaran thought. When the police went to arrest her they would be spared the trouble of having to search for at least one ally.

"We won't go that way, then," Ilaran said. "If she's out shopping she'll stay around the city centre. We'll go over the East Bridge instead."

Haliran remained blissfully unaware of the net closing in around her. She awoke that morning confident in the knowledge that she had gained a new accomplice who wouldn't dare act against her. Princess Abihira was a fool, or she wouldn't meddle with things she couldn't understand, but even a fool could be useful. Especially a fool who was related to the empress herself. Until now Haliran had never been able to exert any influence over any royal directly. (Siarvin didn't count; he had only been a minor nobleman indirectly connected with the royal family.) Through Abihira she would be able to meet the Grand Princess, and perhaps even the empress herself.

With that happy thought in mind she had her breakfast and read her morning letters. There was one from her friend Menansierd, professor of horticulture at Eldrin University. Haliran read that one as she had her tea. Prince Arikimi of Seroyawa was visiting the city. According to Menansierd he was the patron of the Seroyawan Floriculture Association. She wanted to talk to him about arranging for some rare specimens from Seroyawa to be put on display in the University greenhouse, in exchange for some equally rare Saoridhin specimens she had collected.

If you have nothing better to do, Menansierd finished, perhaps you could come with me.

Haliran had little interest in horticulture except to find out which varieties were poisonous. But she would never turn down an opportunity to meet someone important, especially if they were a royal.

She hadn't planned to go to court today. As a minor noblewoman she had the right to attend whenever she wanted, of course. There was just little point in going when there was no chance of them discussing anything interesting. But to support a friend, especially a friend who had helped her in the past and turned a blind eye to certain things, she would put up with the dull debates for a while.

Perhaps she should take Luamon. The silly girl had a foolish idea that royal court discussions were always fascinating. This should disabuse her of that notion.

To her own surprise Kitri found she slept much better than expected after the festival fiasco. In spite of the grim circumstances there was something very satisfying about being proved right. She had warned Abi that necromancy was a terrible idea. Events had shown just how true her warnings were. All right, so the festival hadn't ended in a bloodbath, but it very easily could have. If Abi kept messing around with corpses then someday it would.

Surely after last night even Abi had lost her interest in raising the dead. Just in case she hadn't Kitri thought of many very convincing arguments over breakfast. She memorised the most persuasive. Then she left the hotel and went to visit Abi.

"She already left?"

The housekeeper nodded. "Her and Princess Kiriyuki. They've gone to the royal court. Shall I give her a message when she comes back?"

Kitri was so baffled by this turn of events that it took her a minute to realise what she'd been asked. "Oh, er, no. No, thank you. I'll visit again later."

She left, scratching her head. For some reason it had never occurred to her that Abi might not be at home. Where else would she be after what had just happened? Surely she wouldn't dare show her face in public. Yet it turned out she would dare, and at the royal court itself no less.

Kitri stopped in her tracks as a horrible thought struck her. She'll lead a corpse right into the court!

The idea of yesterday's events repeating was too much to bear. She set off in the direction of the Silver Palace, her lips pursed and her fists clenched. Court sessions were technically open to anyone interested enough to attend, even though in practice the general public usually didn't care enough to bother. No one would object to her presence if she said she just wanted to listen to the discussions. Then she would be on hand to prevent -- if possible -- a disaster.

If Abi's idiocy caused yet more chaos she'd... she'd... Well, she didn't know what she'd do, but it would be very unpleasant.

Irímé's suspicions were right. His mother hadn't noticed his absence. Nor did she comment on him waking up at midday and having breakfast while she was having lunch. She was too absorbed in talking about herself to ever spare a thought for anyone else.

"I had a most enlightening chat with the zoo's director," Kumolnea prattled on, not caring if he listened or not. "He told me that I should never feed the druhiper with bleo flower. It gives them indigestion. Better to feed them heosonel instead. I'll have to buy some while we're here. I don't think we can get it in Neleth Ancalen."

Irímé finished his second cup of coffee and glumly munched his way through a slice of toast. Kumolnea continued to chatter about her infernal collection. There were times when Irímé dearly wanted to open all the cages in her twice-damned menagerie and let all the animals out.

The next words out of her mouth were, "They have a chiodrintin skeleton at the museum. We'll go and see it later."

His stomach sank. He could imagine few things more miserable than an afternoon of listening to his mother talk about exotic animals.

"Sorry, Mother, but I promised Abihira I'd take her to the theatre this afternoon," he said as he got up, and scurried out of the room before she thought to ask for more details.

Now, should he go to the royal court or not? He didn't like the thought of missing all the excitement. But what excuse could he give for going there when he never had before? It would be especially humiliating if the empress saw him and made any reference to his confession.

For want of a better idea he went looking for Abi. A servant helpfully informed him she'd already left for the court. That settled it, and it gave him a perfect excuse. He set off for the Silver Palace.

The palace guards always increased the security in the immediate aftermath of anything unusual. Luckily for Shizuki they were on the look-out for people, not snakes. He got into the palace without any difficulty. Statues of the gods of justice and truth stood in the hall where the empress held court. He slithered up one of the statues and coiled himself on top of its head. From here he could see and hear everyone but no one could see him.

He settled down to wait for court to begin.