Hell's Gate

"It's an urgent message, Your Majesty," Taje said formally, and Zindel nodded.

"Very well." He glanced down into Varena's eyes. "I beg your pardon, my dear. Children," he added with an apologetic smile, then glanced at Taje again. "Will I be back shortly, Shamir?"

"I … doubt it, Your Majesty."

"I see." Zindel kissed each of his daughters in turn, begi

"I'll let you know what I can," he said quietly, and she nodded.

"If you can't, I'll understand."

"Yes." He brushed a lock of hair from his tall, straight daughter's brow. "I know."

He gave her another smile, then turned briskly and stepped back through the door with Shamir Taje, and she discovered her knees were trembling. She all but fell back into her chair, not even bothering with proper deportment, but her mother didn't scold. She just bit her lip and tried to smile in a brave effort that didn't fool Andrin.

A moment later, the door opened again, and Andrin's head whipped back around. Her father stood there, pale as death, staring straight at her.

"Zindel?" the Empress' voice sounded breathless, frightened.

"I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to alarm you." His eyes met hers, held for an instant, then moved back to his eldest daughter. "Andrin, I'm afraid you have to come with me. It's essential that you join the Privy Council's deliberations.

Andrin heard someone gasp and wasn't sure if the sound had come from her mother, or from her. She tried to rise, then paused to take a deeper breath, and made it to her feet on the second attempt.

"What is it, Father? What's happened?"

"It's just a precaution, Andrin, but it's necessary. I'll brief you with the rest of the Council."

Andrin saw the flicker in his eyes, the tiniest of speaking glances at her baby sisters, and swallowed down a throat gone dry.

"Of course, Father." She bent to press a kiss on her mother's suddenly cold cheek. "I'm sorry, Mama. Will you convey my apologies to Aunt Reza for missing my lesson this morning?"

"Of course, dearest."

Andrin followed her father into the passage, suddenly wishing her fears could remain nameless, vague, however terrifying. This morning, all she'd wanted was their resolution; now she harbored a terrible suspicion that the truth would be far worse than anything she'd yet imagined.

The walk to the Council Chamber seemed endless, yet it was also far too short, and Andrin drew a deep breath and straightened her spine as the doors finally opened before them. She'd never actually been inside the Privy Council Chamber, which wasn't as surprising as someone else might have thought, since Hawkwing Palace, the imperial Ternathian residence in Estafel, was the largest structure on the entire island of Ternath. The ancient palace in Tajvana had been substantially larger, and more opulent, just as the ancient empire had been larger and, for its day, even richer. But Andrin had difficulty imagining a building more immense than her birthplace, since the palace was a small city in its own right.

Nearly five thousand people lived and worked in Hawkwing Palace, which ambled across twenty acres of land, including the stables, ke

She'd been to the Throne Room, of course, but the chambers where her father consulted, pla

A third wall was devoted almost entirely to a hearth, where a cheerful coal fire drove away the autumn chill when she stood close to. The mantle was simple, compared with other fireplaces in the palace, and served mostly as a place to put clocks. At first, she thought it was an echo of her mother's love for bric-a-brac. But then she tipped her head to examine them more closely, and discovered one clock for each of the time zones within the Empire.

Andrin forgot the tension of the moment as she stared in delight at the simple but effective way to determine at a glance what time it was in any given city of the Empire. Each clock was labeled with the names of the major cities within its zone, and she even found clocks at the far end of the mantle that showed time zones in the rest of Sharona.

That discovery led her eyes to the map hanging across the far end of the room, where she could trace the familiar coastlines and pair them up with the mantle clocks.

The island of Ternath, itself, shown by the mapmakers as a vibrant green jewel, was the westernmost land bordering the rolling expanse of the North Vandor Ocean. Just to the east of Ternath lay Bernith Island, which stretched farther north and south than Ternath and was wider, as well. Beyond Bernith, with its landmark white-chalk cliffs, past the chilly waters of the Bernith Cha

Her gaze traveled from the Bernith Cha

From Bolakin, she traced the coastline that skirted the tideless Mbisi Sea, known to traders as the Sea of Commerce or Sea of Money, depending on how one translated the original Bolakini. Either translation was apt, considering the money made from the commerce crossing the Mbisi on any given day, especially since the emergence of the Larakesh Gate and the completion of the Grand Ternathian Canal. The long, fairly straight southern shore of the Mbisi was controlled by various wealthy Ricathian city-states, while the Ternathian coastline sprawled along the Mbisi's far longer and more winding northern shore.

The only land north of the Mbisi Sea that Ternathia didn't govern was the far northern strip that bordered the icy Polar Ocean, surrounding the north pole. The fjord-riddled coastline of the huge, vaguely spoon-shaped promontory of Farnalia formed the western boundary of the Farnalian Empire. That empire stretched from the North Vandor Ocean, lapping and slapping its way into those deep fjords, right across the top of the vast Chairifonian supra-continent that stretched clear to the Scurlis Sea, five thousand miles to the east. The Farnalian Empire was very narrow, viewed north to south, but so long it wrapped a quarter of the way around the world. And though it was sparsely inhabited, thanks for the most part to its climate, the people who lived there were as impressive as their land.