“You know much…” Hakan wanted to smile, but something in her seemed primitive and ancient, and his heart withered at the notion of taunting her. “What could you know of me?”

“I know… where you go. I know that with victory in the west, as shallow as it may be, you’ve set your heart upon the east.”

Despite himself, he shivered. He had spoken of this to no one. The Haelish uprising, which had begun shortly before Hakan had been born, was a conflict that had plagued him for all of his years, and though it was not over, it was at a stalemate, and he had vowed to himself long ago that as soon as he was able, he would dedicate himself to reuniting the Old Empire. And that meant turning his sights toward the islands. Toward Galahesh and Anuskaya beyond it.

“How could you know?” he whispered.

“Do not fear, Kamarisi. I’ve told no one.”

Somehow, the effects of the poison were no longer spreading. Her voice had regained its verve. Her cheeks had regained their color, and her eyes were once again sharp.

Hakan swallowed again. The tightness in his throat remained. His mind felt muddled, as if he should be more angry at what she had told him. He shook his head to clear it, but as he did, a wave of dizziness swept over him. He pinched his eyes, hoping to clear himself of the malady, but it refused to ebb.

When he opened his eyes again, he was pressed against the cool marble tiles. Ahead lay the balcony at which he’d been standing only moments ago, but instead of finding Sariya lying there, she was now standing, staring down at him with eyes both calm and collected.

His breath released from his lungs, long and slow. Drawing the next breath was difficult, as if the air itself had turned to wine.

“What… have you done?”

“I have done nothing, Kamarisi. This has all been your doing.” She smiled, her blue eyes glinting in the sunlight. She held in her hand the chalice from which she’d been drinking. “You wish to know who I am? Surely you’ve heard of the tales of Khalakovo? In the autumn of last year, a boy was brought to the islands by the Maharraht. They hoped to tear open the rifts that ran through the islands.”