I climbed to where the sky fades

Till I'm a castaway

Till I asphyxiate

I caught your eyes, bird of prey

And I can't cauterise

The open wound you made

-- Starset, Stratosphere

Tananerl was less a principality and more a loose association of kingdoms and tribes who were forced to work together with gritted teeth. As such its capital was constantly disputed. Five thousand years ago Ilaran came up with the idea of having two capitals, a temporary summer one and a permanent winter one. The summer one was a different city each year and moved around all the kingdoms in turn. The winter one was Magdrőd-Keszgy, capital of Ahalál. Ilaran might only be Prince of Tananerl, but he was also still King of Ahalál.

Siarvin was from a different kingdom. Zhlokaw, if Ilaran remembered correctly. Would he be happy to stay in Ahalál? Would he prefer to go home? If he went home what would he find? So much had changed over the millennia. Ilaran had found it hard enough to adjust when he returned to Ahalál after he and his mother left, and he had only been gone a few centuries. And what about Shizuki? Would he stay in Tananerl with Siarvin or go to Seroyawa with Koyuki?

Those thoughts and similar ones occupied his mind all the way to the capital. He had sent word ahead to Kivoduin and no one else. She would pass the news on to the staff while keeping it from his council. Years ago he'd learnt the best way to make sure none of the politicians and rival rulers got any ideas was to never let them know his plans. People were less inclined to make plots in his absence when they didn't know when he'd be back.

The ordinary people of Tananerl had seen Ilaran only during official events or on important days. Then he was in full ceremonial regalia. None of them had any idea what he looked like in ordinary clothes. Before the train arrived he changed out of his distinctly Saoridhin clothes and into much more normal Tananerlish ones. Of all the dozens of people at the railway station, not a single one spared him a second glance when he stepped off the train. It was mildly amusing to see.

Ilaran sent his luggage ahead and made his way to Viniok Palace slowly. He took the long way around to see what had changed in the city. Not much, and thankfully none of it was for the worse.

There were new shops on the main street and a collection of new trees planted along Koziatyn Street. The police station had finally been repainted. And not before time; it had been an eyesore for years. Old Zhengia, the city's most famous baker, had another colossal cake on display in her front window. It was shaped like a dragon and looked like it would destroy the window and possibly part of the building if it overbalanced. Someone had finally convinced The Happy Shoemaker to replace their battered and barely legible old sign with a new one. Not to be outdone, the Guardsman Tavern across the road had replaced their sign with an enormous banner hung from the roof. The bookshop on Balazna Street had a notice in their window proudly declaring they were the only shop in the city that had the complete works of a popular author.

At last Ilaran reached the palace. The guards recognised him at once and bowed. So did the servants he passed on the way in. Kivoduin was waiting in his study. Her mildly annoyed expression warned him something was wrong.

Over the many years of their acquaintance Ilaran's and Kivoduin's relationship had become impossible to explain. She was his second-in-command, but also his friend, just about the only person he trusted absolutely, and -- very occasionally, when they were both more lonely or under more stress than usual -- his lover. She handled his duties when he was away. There was usually very little she couldn't deal with on her own. What could be wrong that she hadn't already dealt with?

Kivoduin didn't waste time with inquiring about his trip or how he was. "The council is meeting right now. Marquis Udgrakry is telling everyone you've run off to Saoridhlém permanently."

Ilaran raised an eyebrow. Marquis Udgrakry had always been a pest. He wanted to be Prince of Tananerl and he wasn't even subtle about it. "And I take it the marquis has no idea I'm back?"

Kivoduin figured out his quickly-formed plan at once. Her annoyed expression was replaced with a grin. "Not the slightest idea."

Marquis Udgrakry had never been so happy in his life. That pest Ilaran had gone "on holiday" and they'd never heard another word from him. Most of the council were used to this sort of behaviour from Ilaran and thought nothing of it. But the marquis wasn't going to let such a fine opportunity slip through his fingers. He summoned an urgent council meeting and did his best to convince everyone who bothered to attend that their prince had abandoned his realm.

"We should have known better than to trust him," Udgrakry proclaimed. "We should have known his loyalty was always to Saoridhlém and--"

The door opened and hit the wall with a thud. Udgrakry, interrupted in the middle of the longest speech he'd ever been able to give, turned to glare at the latecomer. His eyes widened. He broke off in the middle of his sentence with a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.

Prince Ilaran bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. "Oh, do continue, my lord. I'm most interested to hear what you have to say."

The sun glared down on the town. It was the hottest part of the day and the roof-tiles were painfully warm. Kitri crouched in the shadow cast by a chimney and tried not to touch the tiles.

Below her the street was eerily silent. Part of her wanted to venture closer to the edge and see if the crowd were gone. The rest of her warned her that this might alert them, and who knew if they could find their way onto the rooftop?

It grew hotter and hotter. Even the shadow didn't provide any relief. Sweat trickled down her back. She wiped her forehead. This couldn't go on for much longer.

Eventually she couldn't bear it any more. Kitri took a deep breath and ventured out of the shadow. She crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of the roof. Nervously she peered down. Nothing. The street was completely empty. All that showed the crowd had ever been there were the blood-stains splattered on the ground and buildings. Kitri stood up to get a better view. Still nothing.

Where did they go?

Wherever they were, this was the best chance she had to get out of here safely. She looked around for a skylight. There was one a roof away. She scurried over to it and tried to prise it open. Its frame was unbearably hot. Exasperated, Kitri pulled out an already-loose slate and smashed the glass. She reached through the hole and undid the clasp. Very quickly she raised the skylight and jumped down into the attic.

It was blessedly cool after the terrible heat. Kitri took a moment to catch her breath. Then she opened the attic door and stepped out onto the stairs. As she ventured through the house she expected to find the owner somewhere. She mentally prepared her explanation. But there was no one there.

When she reached the ground floor she found furniture overturned. Pools of blood soaked the floor. A red stain ran from the front door, which was ajar, into the dining room.

Kitri approached the dining room warily. The stain divided into several ones leading under the table and under the cabinets around the walls. She knelt down and looked under the nearest cabinet. A blood-stained face stared back at her.

She screamed and fell back. Now she saw there were bodies under all of the furniture. Bite-marks covered their faces and limbs. Some of them were missing flesh. All were covered in blood.

This doesn't make sense, Kitri thought once she recovered. I saw the crowd kill people. They never bothered to hide the bodies.

All of her instincts screamed this was a terrible idea and she should get out as quickly as possible. For once Kitri ignored them. She leaned closer. The nearest body had dried blood all around its mouth. Its lips were drawn back, revealing very pointed teeth. Scraps of flesh still clung to its teeth.

Light dawned. These weren't murder victims shoved out of sight by their murderers. They were part of the crowd who for some reason had come and hidden in here. And a warning voice at the back of her mind told her they weren't really dead. They were sleeping. And they might awake at any moment.

Kitri fled. She ran out of the house, down the street, and all the way to the outskirts of town. There was only one main road in and out of the town of Gesom. Like all average-sized towns it had walls around it and gates that were closed at night or when an enemy invasion was expected. Kitri hammered at the door of the north gatekeeper's house. Words could not describe her relief when the door opened and she came face to face with a normal, living immortal.

"What's going on?" the gatekeeper asked.

It seemed a ridiculous question. "Haven't you heard all the noise?"

The gatekeeper shook her head. "Can't hear anything over the sound of my sewing machine."

Kitri groaned. This was going to be very hard to explain. "Listen, there's been-- Someone's cast a curse on the town." That was a much simpler explanation than the truth. "It's turning people into monsters. We have to close both the gates so the curse doesn't spread."

The gatekeeper scratched her head. "It's against the law to close the gates during the day."

"I know the law! But this is an emergency!" Kitri stopped and took a deep breath. "Look. I'll put it in writing that I ordered you and the south gatekeeper to close the gates. Then if anyone asks you can show them the order as proof I'm responsible."

"All right," the gatekeeper said dubiously. "Are you sure it's a curse?"

"Yes," Kitri said irritably.

The gatekeeper let her into house. She scribbled out her order while the older woman closed the gates and sent a telegram to the south gatekeeper telling him to do the same.

"I have to go to the next town for help," Kitri said. "Do you have a ladder?"

"Whatever for?"

"To climb over the wall."

The gatekeeper took her out to the back of the gatehouse. Together they dragged a ladder out of the storeroom and propped it up against the wall. The gatekeeper gave her a length of rope to climb down on the other side.

"You'd better leave the ladder up," Kitri said. "You might need to escape quickly. The curse's victims are asleep now, but I don't think they'll stay asleep for long."

Once upon a time Abi had thought her parents' sitting room was the place she hated most. Now she discovered she was wrong. The place she actually hated the most was anywhere Aunt Jiarlúr happened to be. Especially when there was no chance of escape.

The day after saying goodbye to Irímé, Abi was dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and marched down to the docks before she knew what was happening. When she woke up enough to understand her surroundings she discovered she was already onboard the boat that would take them to Gengxin. It had already left Eldrin harbour. Saoridhlém's coast was disappearing behind them.

Abi was quite fond of boats. She had no choice but to learn to like them when her foster siblings were sea serpent immortals. When they were younger a favoured game of Seitomu, Nozomi and Azurin was to row out to sea with Abi, then shapeshift and hide under the boat while Abi had to guess where they were before they jumped out at her. So it was no surprise that in addition to liking boats Abi could swim very well and wasn't at all afraid of the water.

Unfortunately she wasn't a good enough swimmer to swim all the way back to the shore if she jumped overboard. And jumping overboard looked more and more like the only option she had left.

"Sit up straight! Don't slouch! Raise your head! Lower your chin!

Aunt Jiarlúr barked orders at her every time she dared to relax. Abi had to hold herself as stiff as a board for ages. She contemplated the pros and cons of turning into a phoenix and flying away. Alas, the boat was made of wood, and they were in Aunt Jiarlúr's cabin. She might accidentally set the whole place on fire if she transformed. Now if she was up on deck, that might be a different matter.

Abi was jolted out of considering the possibilities of transforming on deck by the next question flung at her. It wasn't enough her aunt had to torment her with criticising her posture. Next she moved on to interrogating her about their destination.

"Who is the current king of Gengxin?"

"King Shi Zheng," Abi said through gritted teeth. Keeping her back ramrod straight like this was downright painful.

"Which of his sons have died?"

"Three of them."

That was not a satisfactory answer. Aunt Jiarlúr glared at her. "I mean their titles."

How was Abi supposed to think of that when she couldn't even breathe without getting yelled at? "The Crown Prince and two others." She racked her brain for the right answer. "The Second Prince and... the Fourth Prince?"

"Fifth Prince." Aunt Jiarlúr made it sound like forgetting a number was a terrible crime. "What are their names?"

Gods above, does she really think I know that? "Zi Xiao, Zi Gang--"

"Zi Guang."

Abi took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Don't murder your aunt, she told herself. "Zi Guang and Zi Qing."

Aunt Jiarlúr sniffed. She almost looked disappointed that Abi had only gotten one name wrong. "What is the proper way to greet the king?"

Finally an easy question. "By bowing."

"How many times must you bow?"

Abi took a wild guess. "Once?"

Her aunt looked utterly appalled. "Most certainly not! You must bow ten times! And you will practice right now!"

It took an amazing amount of self-restraint for Abi not to hurl herself right through the window and into the sea below.